I Bet You Can't
by Your Undying Fan
Summary: [OneShot]Ever since he killed his parents, Jackson had a firm belief that he would never risk his own life to save that of another. When he is given what he truly wants, he realizes that he is poorly mistaken.


**A/N-**

_Ok, I know I really should be working on What It's Like to be Loved, but this just had to get out. . .I think. Oh well, it's a one shot. I really can't tell you right now what it's about, but I can assure you, I will know when I am finished xD Well, please review. Even if it's a bad review, because I don't really like it myself. Anyway, please tell me what you think, where I can improve. It's much appreciated. I would really truly like to know where my mistakes are in this one. If there should be more build-up and such. I feel it's a little unbelievable as far, and I would love some pointers. Thanky's._

_There might be a little Lisa/Jackson material in here, but I don't know. I guess the important news is: "Jackson and all his hot goodyness is alive in this fic!" Yes, you heard me, alive and breathing! -bounces around-_

_Yes yes, I know it be short. I wrote it at one in the morning. . .I think it's a bit cluttered xD Oh well, I'll edit it if need be._

**Disclaimer**

_I don't own Red Eye._

**I Dare You**

"_I bet your not strong enough."_

Jackson Rippner opened his eyes for the first time in weeks to a world of searing pain. His burning throat was the first thing he noticed upon opening his eyes. His aching chest was the second. He tried to lift an arm, but found that it was handcuffed to the bed, and the effort it took to move it in the first place was too much. In the end, he gave up on moving anything at all.

He opened his brilliant blue eyes slowly, giving them time focus. Once he could see clearly, or once it was as clear as it was going to get, Jackson briefly surveyed his surroundings. A quick run over revealed an overly sterile hospital room. Shining white walls gleamed back at Jackson, causing his already pounding headache to throb painfully.

Jackson groaned, making his first sound since the Red Eye Incident two weeks ago. He closed his eyes briefly before rolling his head around, trying to loosen his tight neck muscles. When he opened his eyes again it was to find a young man gazing back at him through equally blue eyes. If Jackson hadn't have been the trained assassination manager that he was, he would have jumped in surprise, but no, that wasn't the case. He merely smirked back at the pale young man.

"Good Afternoon sunshine!" The young man stood suddenly, causing his ruffled black hair to fall in front of his eyes.

"How long have I been out, Scott?" Jackson croaked. He would have reached up to touch his screaming throat, if he was not chained to the bed.

"What? No 'Good Afternoon.' No 'Great to see you again partner'? I feel hurt." Scotty beamed down at the glaring Jackson below him before taking the time to answer his question. "Two weeks. Short, considering your wounds." Scotty furrowed his brow in concentration before he sat back down next to Jackson. He leaned back in his chair, putting his hands behind his head before looking back at the questioning Jackson. "What?"

"What's going on?" Even through the evident rasp, the dangerous clip to Jackson's voice could not be missed. His eyes, cold and unfeeling, bore into Scotty's, expecting an immediate answer.

"Your not fired, if that's what you mean." Scotty could have sworn he saw relief in Jackson's eyes, but if he had, it was brief, and gone in an instant. "No, the company decided to give you a second chance. Your lucky, Jackson, it took them at least a week to discuss your fate."

"What's my second chance?" Jackson looked back up at the ceiling. This was going to be easy, whatever it was. Upon awakening, his first thought had been 'Aw, fuck. They're going to kill me.' Everything was good if they were going to give him a second chance, no matter what be the assignment.

"An assassination." Scotty would have laughed at the angry expression he received had it been from anyone except Jackson.

"No Shit, Scott. What kind of assassination, genius? Who's the target? How high profile is it? What are the precaution's?"

"Slow down Mr. Twenty Questions!" Scott held his hands up in front of him in a sign of peace before smirking once more at Jackson and continuing. "Your job is simple. You just kill a single young woman without attracting any attention whatsoever to the company. No tip-offs this time. You have no idea how hard the Boss is working to get the government off our trail. You screw up, Jackie, and your as good as dead."

"Simple." Jackson repeated, wincing at the nickname. A young woman? Who? Why? What did she do? They were all question's Jackson wanted to ask, but didn't instead he asked his usual question before an assignment, making certain that no emotion showed on the outside. "How long do I have?"

"Eight weeks. That's plenty of time." Scott, no longer the sarcastic young man who had woken Jackson up, handed him a manila envelope and silently exited the room, waving briefly over his shoulder a 'Be right back.' gesture. Jackson looked at the envelope that had been laid on his stomach, wondering how the heck he was going to read it when his hands were handcuffed to the bed. He was staring blankly at the folder when Scotty entered again, holding a key. He made quick work of the cuffs before standing back up.

"You know who to call if you need a bug. Don't go cheating on me Jackie." Jackson watched as Scotty left the room. He waited for the door to click shut before he reached down to the folder in front of him. He slowly raised the bed, grunting in pain as his chest muscles tightened. He opened the folder, flipping through the top pages to reach the photo tucked away in the back. His cold eyes softened just little when Lisa Reisert's smiling face stared back at him.

_Oh Lisa, whatever am I going to do with you?_

-----------------

January 2nd found Jackson Rippner huddled inside his black Mustang Convertible, his heater cranked up to high and a blanket wrapped tightly around him. He found himself wondering why Lisa had chosen New York City, of all places to live, to move to after the Red Eye flight. It was "too damn cold" in Jackson's own words.

He sat outside a small apartment home, no more than three stories high, and just his luck; Lisa's apartment was on the second floor. Merely half a week into stalking Lisa, Jackson had called Scotty to install a camera, for he couldn't see Lisa worth anything. Once the bug was installed, Jackson settled down, knowing that nothing had changed for Lisa save her environment. She had been asked to run the "Lux New York" merely two weeks after the "Flight from Hell"

Stalking Lisa again was no easy task for the young manager. With every passing day his old obsession grew just a little. He found himself once again following her into bars unseen, even when he knew he needn't be there. He found himself staring listlessly at his computer screen, watching her cook her nightly eggs. He didn't need to follow her or watch her, he didn't need to study her more than he already had, but he did anyway. He didn't know why, he just did.

Jackson shivered again as he brought his shaking hand up to his mouth. He breathed on it and rubbed his hands together in an attempt to warm them. He cursed himself for choosing the convertible for this particular job. Even with the hood up, this car was not the type to be driving around New York City in January.

"Do something Leese." He spoke to the frigid air. His blue eyes showed clear annoyance. Jackson glanced down at his numbed hands before reluctantly starting up the car, glancing up once more at Lisa's apartment window before he deftly pulled the car out of its parking place, steering it towards his hotel room at the Lux New York.

-----------------

The next morning found Lisa Reisert, dressed in her Lux New York uniform, striding up the steps into the grand hotel. She breathed out an exasperated sigh as she stopped in the doorway. Another grueling day of work was before her, and she loved it. It was her way of escaping. It was her way of forgetting.

True, Lisa somewhat missed her "friends" back in Miami, but she also knew she couldn't stay there. There were to many memories. She had jumped at the job in New York, eager to get away. She had thrown herself once again into her work. Quickly rising to the position of manager. It hadn't been hard really, just fake a smile and a laugh and she could go anywhere in the hotel business. Faking was Lisa's speciality.

"Morning Lisa!" The cheerful voice of her assistant manager, Valerie, brought Lisa out of her reverie. She looked up and smiled at the energetic young woman, who's bright red curls were bouncing up with the young woman. _Why can't you just hold still? _Instead of voicing her annoyance, Lisa just smiled.

"Morning." Lisa moved behind the desk, quickly running through the names of patron's on the computer, making sure the ones she had written in her files were there and everything was in order. Her eyes caught on one name, Jason Reppny. What a funny name. She nearly laughed aloud. What kind of last name was Reppny?

----------------

Jackson sat a mere fifteen feet away from Lisa in one of the comfortable lobby recliners, watching her over the rims of his sunglasses. He had an unread newspaper splayed out before him, just begging to be glanced at. Jackson had no interest in reading it however, he was to busy pouring over Lisa's stiff form. She hadn't changed much at all.

His breath was short and quick, but he didn't notice. All his attention was focused on watching Lisa without her noticing. He knew from experience that woman tend to know when they're being stared at, even if there is nothing to make it appear so. He could see Lisa shift uncomfortably and glance around the lobby, before he looked away. As soon as he glanced at the unusually uninteresting newspaper he realized that his heart was racing.

_Come on, all I need now is for the lobby to empty_. He needed to focus on his job, that's what he was there for. Nothing else, just to save his skin. He knew it would only be so long before Lisa was alone with him in the lobby, whether that was a good thing or not, he couldn't decide. He had already run through the procedures with all of his associates. While his thug Franky told a "convincing" story to momentarily divert patrons, Scotty would feed a loop to the lobby security cameras, making it easy for Jackson to steal Lisa up to his room.

Jackson glanced out the window, nodding to his funny looking thug before whispering into his earpiece, signaling Scotty to start the loops. Once the few remaining guests wandered up to there rooms, Jackson stood slowly, pushing his glasses up to cover his brilliant blue eyes. Approaching Lisa turned out to be much harder than Jackson had thought. His legs didn't seem to want to move.

_This is just a job. It's her life or yours, Jackie. Come on you can do this_

When Jackson stared into Lisa's vivid green eyes, he felt himself relaxing. He could do this. All he need do was remember what she did to him, and he would make it. He just had to picture her sitting below him with a gun in her hand and all would be well. _Just picture her with the field hockey stick raised above her head, angry enough to kill you. _No no, that wasn't working. _Shit_. She looked cute when she was angry.

_Ignore it, Jackie. They will kill you if you don't do this. _He felt himself slipping into his cold managerial mode. All feelings gone along with any thoughts other than the job at hand. He alowed a cool, amused expression to find it's way onto his face as he smiled coolly at Lisa across the counter. His right hand gripped the familiar handle of his K-Bar in his pocket.

"Can I help you sir?" Lisa broke the awkward silence that Jackson had not noticed. How long had he been standing there staring at her? Judging by the uncomfortable look on Lisa's face, quite a while.

"Yes, there's a problem with my key. I've tried many a time to open my door, but it just won't work. Do you think you can check it?" Jackson forced his voice a little lower, afraid that Lisa may recognize him before the right time.

"Yes, I'll see what I can do." Jackson watched impatiently as Lisa slid his card through the scanner, watching as the computer informed her it was already active. She opened the drawer in front of her to grab a different key, but found that the drawer was empty. She smiled nervously up at Jackson before talking again. "I'll just run on up to the room with you. There might be something wrong with the lock. I'll just check before I call maintenance."

"Thank You." Jackson smiled lightly. This was too easy.

"Oh, no Problem. It's my job you know?" She smiled up at him, a genuine smile. Maybe Lisa Reisert had changed a little after all. Jackson looked over at her, his smile too becoming a little more genuine. He had to admit, she did look cute in her Lux uniform. _No, she's dosen't! Stop that Jackson, come on, focus._

"Yes, it's still very kind of you." Jackson looked away, but could still see her smile out of the corner of his eye. Even the eight weeks of surveillance had not revealed to Jackson this side of Lisa. He felt all of the old obsession rushing back. Eight weeks of obsession melting into him once more. He visibly shook himself, drawing a concerned look from Lisa, before continuing to walk. He had to clear his head. It was him or her, there really was no contest.

"Here we are." Jackson stated the obvious, mentally kicking himself as Lisa giggled nervously. She walked in front of him, sliding the card through the lock. She pulled it out, not expecting the green "go" light to flash at all. She turned around to face Jackson and found herself face-to-face with his knife.

"Oh, would you look at that, Leese, it works just fine." Jackson had his hand over Lisa's mouth before she could utter a sound. He pushed her through the unlocked door into the small hotel room.

"What do you want, Jackson?" Lisa managed, as soon as Jackson removed his hand, of course.

"Relax, Leese, you don't have to do anything this time." Jackson smirked at her as he pulled some thin rope out of one of his many jacket pockets. Making sure to keep the blade of his knife pressed against Lisa's throat, he made quick work of tying Lisa's hands and feet, shoving her onto the bed when he was finished.

He stepped back and looked Lisa. So this was it. He found himself wondering if he could really pull this off. Lisa had been such a big part of his life for so long, he had gotten used to her presense. He came to feel oddly devoted to studying her. Almost like Stockholm Syndrome, only backwards. He shook himself again. He had to finish this.

"What are you going to do?" Jackson was surprised to hear the strength in Lisa's voice. He looked down at her, cold blue eyes bearing into warm green eyes. She seemed so calm, so serene. Jackson had always been surprised at how well the young woman composed herself. She had been through so much, yet she could put on a calm mask even when facing her own death. Why had all this befallen upon such a caring woman?

_Focus! Your almost out._

"Don't worry about it, Lisa, just play along." Jackson sat down on the bed beside Lisa, tying a handkerchief around her head in her mouth, stifling any noise that she may feel inclined to make. Her green eyes bore into his, conveying the sadness that she felt inside. There was no weakness, no; Lisa Reisert was no longer weak. She had accepted her fate the minute Jackson had taken off his glasses to reveal his cold blue eyes.

_Just get it over with Jacke. _Jackson couldn't bring himself to look into her eyes. He leaned forward, averting his eyes as he pulled out the blade. He leaned in to where his lips lightly brushed her ear.

"Let's just do this." His voice was a whisper. He was afraid that if he spoke, Lisa might hear how sad he truly was. Yes, Jackson Rippner was sad. He could admit it to himself now. Lisa had been a huge part of his life for the past five and a half months, even if two weeks had been spent in a hospital.

He could feel her head nod slightly. She had excepted it. He knew that, and it was that knowledge that tore him apart. He closed his eyes, more because he was afraid of the emotion showing in there blue depths than because he needed them closed. He was about to kill a woman because she had defended herself. Without raising his head away from her ear, he untied the handkercheif. He was confident now that she wouldn't make any noise, or have the chance for that matter.

He finally raised his head, gazing deeply into Lisa's solemn green eyes. He briefly studied the tears that clung to her eyelashes before he raised his knife to her throat. He discovered he couldn't keep his eyes open when he pressed down on her neck enough to draw blood, and her quiet whimper was enough to send shivers up his spine.

Unable push any harder, he eased the pressure, unexplained anger filling his insides as he gazed down at the confused woman. He couldn't do it. He couldn't kill Lisa Reisert. She had changed him, whether he liked it or not, and not even the anger he felt for her at that moment was enough to make him finish the job. Jackson Rippner, top Assassination Manager of the League of Forgotten Rights had fallen for the single woman he couldn't have.

He pushed himself off the bed and glared at Lisa. How had she done this to him? He would probably never know, but not to worry! He would have plenty of time to think about it while he was running from his murderous company. His anger rose yet another notch as he remembered that not killing Lisa would mean the company would track him.

He soundly slapped Lisa across the face, releasing a little of the anger he felt, but the knife in his hand was forgotten. He couldn't use it against Lisa. Her calm green eyes had become enough to calm the hardened manager.

After his unexplained, or what Lisa thought was unexplained, slap, Jackson marched across the room to the door, turning only to flip Lisa off before storming into the hallway.

"Fuck you Reisert!" Lisa could barely hear Jackson from the hallway. She began laughing uncontrollably. Amazing, just amazing. Without truly doing anything, Lisa Reisert had won again.


End file.
